Life Itself

Why am I writing all this? What is the point of saying these things aloud? For many reasons. One, to remember. So I can always go back and re-experience the first joys of motherhood. Second to heal, forgive and forget. For those moments that were traumatic - to be able to let go. Third, to inspire more sharing. Pregnancy and labour came with so much advice and so many stories - from every woman I knew. In contrast, the weeks and days and hours after the baby arrived seemed like an empty vacuum. It's almost as if all this is a well kept secret. (I am not sure if its just me that this was a secret from, but I was caught by surprise by the first few weeks of Rumi.) And so, as I dealt with all my emotions, and physical sensations, I decided to break the silence in my own tiny way. RCH was different from Peace Arch. In many, many ways. Among these was that they didn't allow our 'Doula' to stay with us at night. And in a way we thought it was okay. There was only one couch

I woke up to Rumi’s shrieks. No one warns you how terrible that first howling can feel. A helplessness and an extreme desire to protect can overcome you, leaving you unsettled. They were looking for a vein in the poor baby’s hands, arms, feet. Probing and poking. They didn’t explain what they were doing. And the otherwise overconfident me, felt too tiny to ask. I thought they were doing what needed doing and it wasn’t my place to ask.  (So much for all the reading and preparing I had done. When the time came to apply my learnings, it was like someone said "statue" and there I was, stuck). Since when did the healthcare system have more power over the decisions for my own child than I did? Well, to a newly born parent of only a few hours, silence seemed like the only option. Turns out they were trying to get blood for a culture test to rule out an infection. Rumi’s temperature hadn’t yet normalised. What followed was a flurry of nurses and fast paced conversations.  I don't